


Silence

by JJ_Smith



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:46:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ_Smith/pseuds/JJ_Smith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Standing over the dead body of a hunter out to kill his pack, Stiles is discovered by Peter. Is Peter going to betray him, or has he just found a partner in crime?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It is an easy decision. The guy’s out to hurt Scott and Scott only wants to talk to him. Stiles knows you can’t talk to a hunter like Haythorn. He is a brutal killer who would kill Scott before he would have gotten the first word out. There really is only one option; to kill the guy before he can kill Scott.

Killing the guy is also pretty easy, easier than Stiles had suspected. The second he’d turned 18, he’d gotten the paperwork to buy a gun and he’d asked Chris to sell him one and teach him how to fire it. Unfortunately he wasn’t old enough yet to own a handgun, but Chris had promised to give him one for his 21st birthday.

Stiles is pretty good with his rifle. He hardly ever misses a target, and tonight is no different. He lines up the shot, pulls the trigger and he sees Haythorn collapse. He’s still calm when he walks into Haythorn’s cabin. He’s calm when he checks if the guy is really dead. The panic doesn’t set in until he stands up, his hand bloody, and he sees Peter Hale standing in the doorway. What little color he has, drains from his face and Stiles can already imagine himself being thrown in jail for this. There’s no way Peter isn’t going to rat him out. The man hates him, Stiles is sure of it.

Peter stares at Stiles for a few moments and by the time he approaches Stiles, the human is shaking badly. To Stiles’ greatest surprise Peter gently grabs his hand and whispers soothing words.

“It’s okay, Stiles, you did what you had to do. He was a threat, you eliminated him.” Peter gently guides Stiles to the bathroom.

Stiles doesn’t know what to say. Suddenly he realizes just exactly what he did. He killed someone, without a second thought. He stares at his bloody hands in horror.

Peter seems to realize Stiles’ inner turmoil as he carefully begins cleaning the blood from his hands. “You did the right thing, Stiles. I know you know that deep down. He would have hurt your pack. You protected your pack. You were right to do this,” Peter keeps repeating. He cleans Stiles’ hands methodically, even making sure to clean his fingernails.

The words soothe Stiles. He believes them; he knows he did the right thing. Though, knowing he did the right thing, doesn’t make it any less heavy. Stiles still can’t speak, he can hardly move. When Peter’s done cleaning him up, he guides him back into the living room with gentle hands and makes Stiles sit down.

Haythorn’s body is right in front of him, lying still in a pool of his own blood. Stiles can’t stop looking at it.

“You made quite a mess,” Peter says. “But don’t worry, I’ll clean it up for you.” He pats Stiles’ cheek. “You’ll be alright, sweetheart.”

Stiles doesn’t know why, but the sweet nickname makes his heart skip a beat. His cheeks flush and for the first time he’s able to look away from Haythorn’s body. He isn’t used to Peter being this kind, but he hopes he’ll see it more often. Stiles stays in his chair while he watches Peter cleanup. It’s almost domestic, he thinks to himself.

An hour later the cabin is spotless and Peter is driving Stiles home with a body in his trunk. When Stiles moves to exit the car, Peter reaches out to grab his wrist.

“Call me next time, sweetheart,” he says. He pulls Stiles in for a quick kiss before releasing him. “Good night, Stiles. Be good.”

Stiles stumbles out of the car, his head full of questions that he can’t answer. He watches Peter drive away before he walks towards his house. When he has his hand on the doorknob, he mentally prepares himself to face his father. He takes three deep breaths and all worries fall away. Once he’s inside, he sees his father sleeping in a chair in front of the TV. Stiles smiles fondly as he covers the man up with a blanket. When Stiles walks  up the stairs to his room, he feels better than he has in a long time. For the first time in months, he doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night and he isn’t plagued by nightmares.

He’s surprised about how good he feels about what he did. When Scott mentions that Haythorn has disappeared, Stiles doesn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Peter’s words keep repeating over and over in his head like a calming mantra. There’s a small  moment of fear when Scott suggests looking for the guy.

“He might be setting up a trap,” Scott suggests. Normally Stiles would be happy that Scott finally saw the dangers of Haythorn, but now he’s scared he’ll smell that Stiles killed him.

“We might walk into the trap if we go look for him,” Stiles says.

“True, but he might also be in trouble himself.” Only Scott would worry about the safety of a guy who’s trying to kill him.

Reluctantly Stiles goes to Haythorn’s cabin with the rest of the pack. He stays close to Scott and tells him it’s because he wants to keep him safe. The actual reason he stays so close to Scott, is that he hopes this way Scott won’t notice his scent hanging all over the place.

Stiles watched Scott closely, ready with a million excuses to explain what happened. He doesn’t need to use any of them in the end. Scott’s nose wrinkles up the second he steps inside.

“He burnt incense, strong incense,” Scott says. “I can’t smell anything.”

Stiles nearly sags to the floor in relief. Peter must have gone back to cover up their scents. He helps the pack look for clues to figure out what happened, and the longer they spend not finding anything the better he feels. At the end of the afternoon Stiles can’t hide his smile. “I think he left. He must have realized there’s no way he could beat our pack.” He throws an arm around Scott’s shoulder and pulls him close. “Our precious True Alpha scared the evil hunter away.”

Scott laughs and pushes Stiles away. “Stop being so positive. You’re the one that’s supposed to invent conspiracy theories, I’m the one that’s positive.”

“Fine. He must have moved into your closet and he’s waiting until you’re asleep to kill you,” Stiles says, sighing. “Happy now?”

“Yep!” Scott answers. “And now I get to be positive and suggest he’s left us alone and we’re going to eat pizza at my place to celebrate.”

Liam’s head shoots up at the mention of pizza, his eyes wide in excitement. It’s moments like this that Stiles is convinced Liam’s not a werewolf but a puppy.

“I’m going to have to pass this once. I still have to finish that essay for coach,” Stiles lies, thankful that he learned a year ago how to lie to werewolves. He finished the essay over the weekend, but he needs to see Peter.

“Stiles…” Scott whines. “We’ll get your favorite.”

“Sorry Scotty. I’ll be there next time, I promise.” Stiles only feels a little guilty about lying to Scott.

“You’d better,” Liam interrupts them. “Scott gets all pouty when you’re not there.”

“I do not get pouty!” Scott says, defending himself.

“Sweetie, you know I love you but you can’t deny that you get pouty when Stiles isn’t there,” Kira says.

“You’re all traitors. I’m giving your pizza to Malia,” he threatens.

A loud cheer can be heard from outside, where Malia was in charge of searching for clues.

“I’m going to let you guys battle this out,” Stiles says, letting go of Scott. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” He quickly says goodbye to the others and gets in his Jeep to drive off. He’s been driving for five minutes before he realizes he has no idea where Peter lives. Stiles is about to reach for his phone when he remembers the hours his dad spent lecturing about not using your phone while driving and he pulls over before he texts Peter.

**To Captain V-Neck:** I want to see you.

**From Captain V-Neck:** Peach Street 68.

**To Captain V-Neck:** Thank you. Be there in 5.

 

The drive to Peter’s home is a quick one. He’s a little surprised by how normal the house looks. He’d almost expected the house to be completely black, almost like Gru’s from Despicable Me, but the house is perfectly normal. There’s even a white fence!

Stiles can’t help but try to take in everything on his way to Peter’s front door. The lawn is impeccable, there’s even some flowerbeds. Stiles’ inspection of Peter’s house is cut short by none other than Peter himself who opens the door before Stiles has even reached it.

“Dude, you live here?” Stiles asks. “Do you mow the lawn yourself? And the flowers, did you plant them?!”

Peter doesn’t answer him, but simply gestures for Stiles to come inside.

“I guess the talkative thing runs in the family,” Stiles jokes as he steps past Peter.

The inside of the house is much more what Stiles expected Peter’s house to be like. It’s all very minimalistic, lots of black and white and straight lines.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Peter asks after he closes the door.

Stiles nods as he looks around himself. “Better than I have in months.”

“You must have been relieved to know you made things safer for the pack,” Peter purrs in his ear.

Stiles jumps a little, he hadn’t noticed Peter sneaking up on him.

Peter laughs softly at Stiles’ startled reaction. “It’s okay, I don’t bite. So, why did you want to come? Are you regretting last night?”

Stiles shakes his head. “You.. um… you mentioned a next time,” he says softly. He’s a little ashamed that he likes the prospect of a next time. It was only supposed to be a one time thing.

“This won’t be the last time someone threatens your pack, Stiles, so I figured this wouldn’t be the last time you protected your pack,” Peter explains. He puts his hands on Stiles’ hips and pulls the boy flush against himself. “Unless you don’t want to protect your pack…”

“I want to,” Stiles says quickly.

“Good, because I heard about this hunter that’s travelling this way. She could just be passing through, but she could just as well mean trouble.”

“Oh…” Stiles leans against Peter, silently hoping the man will grip his hips harder.

“I could let you know when I figure out where she’s staying,” Peter suggests.

Stiles nods, his heart beating fast at the prospect of a repeat of the previous evening.

“If that’s all, I have some business to attend to. I’ll talk to you.” Peter presses a quick kiss against Stiles cheek before letting go of him.

Stiles stumbles a little at the sudden loss, but recovers quickly. “I…” he begins, but Peter has already left. Reluctantly he leaves Peter’s house to spend the evening alone at home.

 

Two days later Stiles gets a text from Peter at eight in the evening.

**From Captain V-Neck** : I’m outside. Wear something black.

 

Stiles peeks out his window and smiles when he sees Peter’s car parked outside. He quickly changes into some black pants and a black shirt before running outside.

“She’s staying in a motel out of town,” Peter says in lieu of a greeting.

Stiles nods. “Do you know why she’s here yet?” he asks as he buckles himself in.

“She’s a hunter, it can’t be anything good.” Peter flashes Stiles a quick smile before he drives off.

Stiles makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat and stays silent for all of ten minutes, which he’s sure is a personal record. “I didn’t bring my rifle. How am I supposed to do it?” he asks Peter.

Without taking his eyes off the road Peter opens the glove box to reveal two shiny, silver knives.  “Guns make too much noise in such a small place. But you know hand to hand combat, you can do this.”

Stiles heart starts beating nervously. This is a lot more hands on than a gun. Even with Peter’s confidence in him, he’s not sure he’ll actually be able to do this.

Of course Peter hears his heart, and he reaches out to hold Stiles’ hand. “You are going to be fine, Stiles. I’ll be right outside in case you need me, which you won’t. You’ll tell her you’re maintenance, and she’ll let you in. You look harmless enough. You’ll take her by surprise and end it. Just think of all the lives you’ll save.”

Stiles nods, trying to take Peter’s words to heart.

Peter holds his hand the rest of the way there. He even squeezes it softly whenever he hears Stiles’ heart beginning to beat faster.

Stiles feels so conflicted about what’s about to happen. He wants to keep the pack safe, but he isn’t even sure this woman is planning on attacking the pack. He waits several moments after Peter parks the car before he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“You’ll be okay,” Peter tells him. “Think about all the lives you’ll save by doing this. One less hunter in the world, thanks to you.”

Peter’s words make him feel better, just like they did the other night. He takes a few more deep breaths before he gets out, making sure the knives are hidden. One is up his sleeve, the other in his boot. Peter silently leads him the hunter’s room while Stiles goes over the plan in his mind.

Peter waits several doors away from the hunter’s room, so Stiles has to walk the last bit alone. He swallows his nerves and knocks on the door. “Maintenance,” he says.

A pale woman with dark brown hair tied into a bun opens the door a little. “I didn’t call for anyone,” she says, dismissing Stiles.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but we’ve had several complaints about water pressure. I’m just making the rounds. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Stiles says, smiling politely at her. To his greatest surprise, she lets him inside.

It happens fast after that. A knife in her stomach, like he remembers his hands doing when they were controlled by the nogitsune. Her neck is next, before she can let out a scream and alarm anyone.

There’s more blood than there was with Haythorn. It shouldn’t surprise Stiles, but it does. It’s all over his hands and his clothes. He won’t be able to wear them again.

The shock he felt the first night comes over him again, and he doesn’t know how to move. Luckily Peter comes in soon, carrying a bag with cleaning supplies.

“You did well, sweetheart,” he says.

Stiles blushes again at the nickname. He’s never had anyone outside of his family talk to him like this and he likes it. It makes him feel warm and loved.

He brushes a thumb over Stiles’ cheek. “You’re such a good boy, looking out for your pack. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He guides Stiles to the bathroom gently. He carefully removes Stiles’ bloody shirt. “You made quite a mess, didn’t you? It’s okay, I’ll clean it up. You’ll get better at it, make less of a mess.” He makes Stiles sit down on the edge of the bathtub.

Stiles soaks up the gentle words and touches like he’s starving. When Peter wets a washcloth and begins cleaning the blood of his face, he leans into the touch.

“You’re just like a cat,” Peter says, chuckling fondly.

Stiles meows jokingly. “Shouldn’t I be running away from you if I’m a cat? Cats and wolves don’t get along.”

“We’ll be the exception,” Peter says. He moves from Stiles’ face, to his neck. From his neck to his arms, and finally he reaches Stiles’ hands. The way he cleans each of Stiles’ fingers is almost erotic to Stiles.

A small voice in the back of his mind tells him that this is wrong. The voice sounds a lot like Scott and it almost breaks the mood. Stiles is stubborn, though. He pushes Scott’s voice away and focuses on Peter.

Peter has moved on to clean the spots of blood that soaked through his shirt onto his chest. “You’re beautiful like this,” Peter tells him. “Such a beautiful, good boy.” He presses a kiss to Stiles’ chest which makes Stiles’ head spin.

His pants come off next and Stiles doesn’t know whether he’s grateful or disappointed that his underwear is clean. Hardly any blood bled through his jeans, and Peter finishes cleaning him quickly.

“I have clean clothes for you,” Peter says when he’s done cleaning Stiles. “I’ll get rid of these for you. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Thank you,” Stiles says. He feels so peaceful. It’s not a feeling he’s used to, since he’s usually buzzing with energy.

“I’ll be right back, kittycat,” Peter says, a teasing tone to his voice.

“I’d call you an ass if you didn’t have magic hands,” Stiles says. He hears Peter laugh from the other room.

Peter brings him some clean clothes before he disappears into the motel room again.

Stiles takes his time getting dressed. Even though he’s in a good mood now, he’s not sure that’ll continue if he sees the body.

Peter comes to get him fifteen minutes later. “Do you want me to bring you home before I continue cleaning up?”

Stiles nods hesitantly. “If you don’t mind,” he answers. “I… I’m not sure I can see her.”

“It,” Peter corrects him. “It’s just a body, you’ll see it that way as well soon. But I covered it, you won’t have to see it.”

Stiles nods again. ‘It,’ he says to himself over and over. He lets Peter guide him through the bedroom and out into the hallway. He doesn’t speak up until he’s in the car, next to Peter. “Won’t housekeeping come in and find her… it, I mean?” he asks.

“Stiles, you have seen this motel, right? Housekeeping barely comes in after guests leave their room. Don’t worry, we won't get caught,” Peter assures him.

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Peter interrupts. “Remember how happy and relaxed you were in the bathroom? Trust me and you’ll feel that again.”

Stiles leans back in his chair and tries to recapture that feeling.

“When I drop you off, you’ll go to bed and you’ll sleep just as well as you did the other night,” Peter says, his voice firm.

Usually Stiles will disobey anything that even vaguely sounds like an order, but there’s something about Peter’s voice that makes him want to obey. He nods in understanding.

“Good boy,” Peter says. He reaches out to stroke Stiles’ cheek.

“Thank you,” Stiles says softly, blushing.

The ride ends not long after that and all too soon Stiles is back in his room, all alone. He crawls under his covers, still wearing the clothes Peter gave him. They smell faintly of him and the smell lulls Stiles into a peaceful sleep.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my god, you guys! Thank you so much for all the kudos! I hope you like this chapter! <3

Two weeks pass and Stiles doesn’t hear anything from Peter. Peter doesn’t randomly show up during pack meetings. Stiles isn’t sure what to do. He could contact Peter, but he doesn’t want to look needy. He can’t ask Derek about Peter, because that would look suspicious. Everyone still thinks he hates Peter after all, and he’s not about to explain why he suddenly needs the man.

Another week goes by before Stiles gets tired of waiting. He want to talk to Peter and he wants to talk to him now. The only problem is that Stiles has no idea what to text Peter. A simple ‘hey, how are you’ doesn’t seem fitting. Neither does ‘everything okay?’ or a ‘want to hang out?’. After a dozen discarded texts, Stiles finally decides on just texting Peter what he feels.

 

To Captain V-Neck: Need you.

 

Stiles is fully aware of just how needy and pathetic that makes him sound and he regrets sending it instantly. That is, until Peter texts him back.

 

From Captain V-Neck: I’ll come by tonight. Wear the clothes I got you.

To Captain V-Neck: Yes. Thank you.

From Captain V-Neck: Be ready at nine.

 

Stiles smiles to himself. He’s meeting Peter again, and the request probably means he’s got another target for Stiles. One more hunter he can take out to keep his pack safe. The calm and silence he felt after the last hunter disappeared two weeks ago and he’s getting desperate to feel it again. He wants to feel Peter’s hands cleaning his, wants to hear his soft words, wants to be told that things will be okay. Hopefully he’ll get that tonight.

He’s so excited to see Peter again, that Stiles is already ready and waiting at eight. He’s sitting on his bed, waiting for the minutes to pass so he can see Peter again. If he saw anyone else doing this, he’d make fun of them. He knows he could just do something else for an hour, but he can’t seem to focus on anything. He also doesn’t really want to do anything.

After fifteen minutes he starts shaking his leg, he was never one for sitting still for long amount of times. Another five minutes and he starts fiddling his fingers as well. At half past eight, he gets up and starts pacing his room. It takes another five minutes before Stiles is so bored that he begins cleaning his room, just to have something to do.

He’s halfway done with sorting his t-shirts when he hears a chuckle behind him. Stiles freezes, he knows that chuckle.

“How did you get in here?” he asks, turning around to face Peter.

Peter holds up some lockpicks. “It’s a nice skill to have.”

“I don’t have the patience for it,” Stiles admits. He’s tried lockpicking several times, but never managed to get the hang of it. The lock to his bedroom door is scratched from his many attempts.

“I’m sure you do, you just need to have the proper motivation,” Peter says. He steps towards Stiles, crowding into his personal space. “Maybe I could provide some motivation,” he whispers.

Stiles nods, unable to speak. It’s feels weird to him, he always has something to say. Peter is proving to be his exception to so many rules.

“Do you want to continue with this,” Peter gestures towards the tees Stiles has spread out on his bed. “Or do you want to go out with me?”

“Out,” Stiles answers eagerly. A little too eagerly if Peter’s laugh is anything to go by.

“Such an eager little kitty,” he teases.

Stiles is about to object to the nickname when Peter presses a soft kiss to his nose.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll get you what you want.” Peter turns around and walks out of the house, expecting Stiles to follow him.

Stiles barely remembers to turn off the lights in his eagerness to follow Peter. Peter’s already waiting for him in the car by the time Stiles locks the front door. Stiles hurries over and quickly makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat.

“I think it’s admirable that you’re this eager to protect your pack,” Peter tells him after he starts the car. “I wish I had another hunter for you, but Beacon Hills has been abnormally quiet.”

Stiles tries not to show the disappointment on his face. He was looking forward to going through that whole ritual again with Peter.

“I did find a criminal your dad wasn’t able to catch, though. We could of course hand him over to your father, or…” Peter trails off.

“Or I kill him,” Stiles finishes. “What did he do?”

“He robbed a diner, beat up several people,” Peter explains.

Stiles hesitates. He has no idea if that’s bad enough to warrant a kill. Still, his skin is itching and he really wants to do this. He sits in silence for a few moments before he nods. “Let’s do this.”

“There’s my good boy,” Peter says, reaching over to squeeze Stiles’ hand. “He’s out camping with a friend. No doubt another criminal. They’ll be easy targets. There’s a gun in the glove box. I have a silencer as well. No one will hear a thing.”

Stiles can’t hold back his excitement and he opens the glove box quickly. The gun is beautiful, it’s the same make and model he picked out for his 21st birthday.

“Do you like it?” Peter asks.

“How did you know? It’s beautiful!” Stiles carefully handles the gun to look at it from all angles.

“I have my ways. I know you can’t legally own it yet, so it’s in my name, but it’s yours. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

Stiles cradles the gun to his chest. “Thank you! This is amazing!” Somehow the gun looks even better now that it’s actually his, sort of anyway. In all the excitement Stiles never takes the time to think about the second guy he’s supposed to kill. He doesn’t even know if the second guy did anything wrong, but it doesn’t matter right now. He’s doing what Peter wants him to do.

They arrive at the woods both much too soon and much too late. Stiles can feel some nervous flutters in his stomach, but they’re not enough to stop him.

“Are you still sure that you want this?” Peter asks him. “So far you’ve only killed hunters, I’d understand if this is too much for you.”

If Stiles were honest, he’d tell Peter that he had been thinking the same thing, but he doesn’t want to appear weak in front of Peter. “I can do it,” he says confidently.

“I knew you could,” Peter says, smiling at him. “I never should have doubted it. You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

Stiles’ face flushes at the compliment and nods. He feels like one of those lovesick schoolgirls he always sees in movies. It’s strange, he’d never even considered Peter as a boyfriend, but now… Stiles has imagined dating everyone else in the pack, even Derek, but never Peter. Now his heart skips a beat every time Peter compliments him or smiles at him. A small part of him knows that this entire situation is incredibly messed up, but a much bigger part of himself knows that this is the first thing in years to make him feel normal.

“We’ve got to walk a little bit before we reach their campsite,” Peter tells Stiles. He squeezes Stiles’ hand once more before he gets out of the car.

Stiles scrambles to grab the silencer before following Peter.

“Try to be quiet. These guys may not be hunters, but they’re not deaf,” Peter chastises him when Stiles steps on a branch.

“Yes, sorry.” It’s not easy for Stiles to walk around without being noticed, he’s too clumsy for it, but he’ll try for Peter. He’ll try so hard for him.

Stiles is stopped a few more times by Peter with a silent look that tells him he’s being too loud. Each time Stiles feels ashamed and he tries a little harder to be quiet. They finally reach the campsite, and Stiles is taken aback by the sight before him. The two men are sitting in front of a campfire, talking and laughing. They’re not monsters, they’re normal people, and Stiles isn’t sure he can justify this any more.

Peter must sense his hesitation because the man stands behind Stiles and pulls him to his chest. “You’re not changing your mind, are you? I know they look nice and innocent now, but I already told you what they did.”

Stiles nods, even though the words don’t really register yet. He stands there for a few minutes, Peter’s hands rubbing his sides comfortingly, but he still can’t make up his mind.

“I get it,” Peter says after a long silence. “You can’t do it, I pushed you too far too soon. It’s okay, I’ll drive you home.”

The second Peter pulls away Stiles makes the decision. He could hear the disappointment in Peter’s voice and he hates it. He raises the gun, aims, and pulls the trigger twice, without a second thought. He watches the men fall down, first one then the other. Peter’s arms find their way around his waist again and he’s pulled against the man’s chest again.

“I’m so proud of you,” Peter whispers.

All doubts are gone now. He made Peter proud and that’s the most important thing in the world to him.

“You did so well, kitten,” Peter continues to whisper. “You did it for me, didn’t you? You’re so good, kitten.”

Stiles doesn’t even feel like objecting to the nickname any more. As long as it’s Peter who calls him that, it’s fine. It can be their thing.

“Do you want to help me clean up?” Peter asks after a moment. “Or do you want to relax?”

“Can I watch?” Stiles asks. He doesn’t really want to get dirty, but he’s curious to see how Peter cleans up the mess he made.

“Sure, kitten.” Peter presses a kiss to Stiles’ cheek.

“Why do you keep calling me kitten? Not that I really mind, but... I’m curious,” Stiles asks softly.

“Because you remind me of one. The way you lean into my touches, it’s just like this cat I had when I was a boy,” Peter explains.

“I like you touching me,” Stiles admits.

“And I like touching you. We’re a perfect match.”

In more than one way, Stiles thinks; he kills and Peter cleans, it’s an arrangement they both seem to like.

When Peter lets go of him, Stiles lets out a little whine; he misses the touch instantly.

“See? Such a cute little kitty.” Peter ruffles his hair before stalking off towards the campsite.

Stiles follows, and since he no longer has to be quiet, there are no angry looks from Peter when he keeps snapping branches. By the time he reaches Peter, the man’s already busy stripping the first corpse. Each piece of clothing gets thrown on the fire as Stiles watches.

“Fire burns the evidence,” Peter explains. “One of the things I learned from our hunter friends.”

“I’m sorry about your family,” Stiles says.

“Thank you,” Peter replies before he silently continues working.

Stiles sits down by the fire and continues to watch Peter work. It’s fascinating to see how fast the man works.

“What are you going to do next?” Stiles asks when Peter throws the last of the clothes into the fire.

“I have to get the bodies into smaller pieces, then I usually burn them.”

The casual use of the word ‘usually’ sends a thrill through Stiles’ spine. This isn’t the first time Peter’s done this. He doesn’t know why that excites him, but it does.

“If I don’t have the opportunity to burn the pieces, I usually throw them in a river or another body of water. You have to make sure you weigh it down properly, though. You don’t want some fisher discovering it.” The way Peter talks reminds Stiles of a teacher. He’s passing on his knowledge to Stiles, almost as if Stiles will one day do this alone. He hopes that day never comes, he likes doing this with Peter.

Stiles expected Peter to use a knife or axe to chop up the bodies, so he’s pleasantly surprised when Peter simply tears the arms of the first body. Next the claws come out as Peter starts tearing into the flesh, pieces of it get thrown on the fire. Stiles is torn between watching the flesh blacken and turn to ash and watching Peter obliterate the bodies with sheer force. Seeing that Peter possesses this strength makes him love the gentle touches he uses on Stiles all the more. It makes it clear to him that Peter chooses to be gentle with him, when he could just as easily crush Stiles’ bones.

The smell of burning flesh doesn’t bother Stiles. It’s just another reminder of the bond he shares with Peter. When Peter’s done he throws some more wood on the fire, cleans his hands with some bottled water the campers brought with them, and sits down next to Stiles. He immediately wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulls the boy against him.

“It’s almost romantic,” Stiles muses as he leans his head on Peter’s shoulder. “Just the two of us out here, under the stars.” He’s a little ashamed to openly call this romantic. He has no idea how Peter feels about their arrangement. It could all be strictly platonic to him and he doesn’t want to make things weird.

“I’d say it’s one of the most romantic nights I’ve had in a long time,” Peter says, quelling Stiles’ fears.

“Do you think they have any food?” Stiles asks. Now that he’s able to relax again, he’s beginning to feel the effects of skipping dinner.

“They probably do. Hold on a moment.” Peter kisses Stiles’ cheek again before he leaves Stiles’ side to dive into the campers’ tent. He comes back with a cool box that he dumps in front of Stiles. “Dig in. There’s plenty of horribly greasy and unhealthy food I know you’ll love.”

“Oh, god, you’re a health freak just like Derek, aren’t you?” Stiles groans.

“I just like to take care of my body, Stiles. I want it to last a long time. Especially if I’m able to score myself a young thing like yourself.” He sits back down next to Stiles and pulls him close again. “I have to live up to your youthful energy.”

Stiles doesn’t know quite what to say; Peter wants him. Peter really wants him. It’s overwhelming to think of someone like Peter wanting him. He’s handsome and rich; he could have anyone he wants and he wants Stiles.

“What do you think? Do I have a shot with you?” Peter whispers in his ear. The smirk on his face is enough to tell Stiles that Peter knows exactly what effect he has on him.

“You’re an ass, Peter,” Stiles mutters.

“But I’m your ass, so you have to put up with it,” Peter teases.

“My ass… I guess I could live with that.” Stiles makes himself comfortable against Peter and looks up at the stars. It’s definitely the most romantic night he’s ever had.

They end up spending the night in the woods, cuddled up together in the campers’ tent. Nothing happens, to Stiles’ disappointment, but he sleeps incredibly well wrapped up in Peter’s arms. The next morning he helps Peter pack up the campers’ stuff. Peter says he’ll get rid of it after he brings Stiles home.

The thought of going to bed alone that night already saddens Stiles, but he’s determined not to let it ruin his last moments with Peter. He’s sitting between the man’s legs and they’re enjoying the campers’ sandwiches for breakfast.

“You slept well tonight, didn’t you?” Peter says.

“I always sleep well after … you know.” It’s hard for Stiles to say the words in the light of day. It’s easier at night, when everything is dark and it doesn’t feel like people could walk in on them at any moment.

“That’s good, kitten. You always looked so tired before we began this thing.”

“Nightmares,” Stiles says. “Some nice reminders of the time I was possessed.”

“And they don’t bother you anymore?” Peter asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “Not after you take care of me. Then I finally feel this… silence, I guess. I don’t worry about the things I did when possessed. I know I’m in control now. I do what I want.”

Peter wraps his arm around Stiles’ stomach and pulls him against his chest. “I’m glad I can give you that.”

Stiles turns his head to look at Peter. “Thank you. I don’t know how I’d do this without  you.”

“You’ll never have to find that out,” Peter promises. “I’ll always be there to clean up the mess my precious kitten makes.”

“Thank you, my big, bad wolf,” Stiles says.

Peter raises an eyebrow at the new nickname Stiles just gave him.

“Hey, if I’m your kitten, you’re my big, bad wolf,” Stiles says. “It only seems fair.”

“Only if you promise you won’t let a hunter cut me open,” Peter says.

“That sounds like a fair deal.” Stiles quickly kisses Peter’s cheek.

Peter laughs and hugs Stiles tightly. “You’re adorable, kitten.”

Their lazy morning ends all too soon, because Stiles has to go to school again. He helps Peter move the camping stuff to his car. They hold hands the entire ride home and Stiles gets a quick kiss goodbye.

“I’ll be longer next time,” Peter promises when he sees Stiles’ disappointed face. “But if I kiss you now, I’ll never let you go again.”

“I totally wouldn’t mind,” Stiles says with a pout.

“But your father would,” Peter reminds him. “And you have to go to school. I don’t want to date some high school drop out.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and reluctantly gets out of the car. Peter stays in front of his house until Stiles is inside. It’s a small thing, but it makes him feel loved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes Stiles hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the support. I'd forgotten how awesome it is to get kudos. I hope you like this chapter. Next chapter to come soon (hopefully)

This time he doesn’t have to wait weeks to hear from Peter again. The next evening Peter calls to ask him about his day. Stiles spends an hour talking about his friends and his classes. He complains about the test he’s sure he failed and he tells Peter about how unfair coach was by making him run around the field three times as punishment for being a minute late.

It isn’t until an hour has passed that Stiles realizes he’s been talking a lot.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’re tired of my voice by now,” he apologizes.

“Stiles, don’t you ever apologize to me for talking too much. If it annoyed me, I’d tell you,” Peter says sternly. “I asked about your day, so I want to know about your day.”

“But I talked for a very long time,” Stiles says.

“And I listened for a very long time, and I’ll continue to listen for as long as you need me to,” Peter says.

“Even if I want to talk about coach’ ingrown toenail for an hour, like he did today?” Stiles suggests.

“…maybe, if I’m incredibly bored,” Peter answers after a short pause.

“You’re too good for me,” Stiles says.

“I’m not, kitten. You deserve this.”

Stiles can’t help but smile. “Okay, so… did I tell you about lunch yet? Lydia threw a fit when there wasn’t an alternative to the mystery meat. The meat, by the way, was not meat. I don’t know what it was, but I know it wasn’t meat.”

Confident that Peter was telling the truth, Stiles talks for another hour or two without worry that his words aren’t welcome.

They fall into an easy routine. Peter calls him every other day and listens to whatever Stiles has to tell him. It’s almost therapeutic to be able to talk about his life so often. Of course he often talks to Scott and his dad a lot as well, but that’s different. Those talks are more conversations, whereas Peter simply listens and only interrupts when he really has something to say.

On Friday night Peter asks Stiles if he wants to go out hunting with him.

“Hunting?” Stiles asks, his heart already beating faster in excitement.

“Yes,” Peter confirms. “I say it’s time we hunt those who hunt us.”

Stiles sits up a little straighter. He’s ready to move at a moment’s notice. “When?” he asks.

“I want to leave tomorrow. Find a way to cover your absence, I’ll get you home on Sunday,” Peter says.

The knowledge that he’ll be spending the night with Peter again only makes Stiles more eager to leave.

“Have you found someone yet?” he asks.

“Not yet, but I have a few leads. You’ll have to help me find someone. Do you think you’re up for that?”

The question sounds like a challenge, and Stiles is never one for turning down a challenge. He once ate an entire jar of peanut butter, because Isaac told him he’d never be able to do it. Sure, he’d gotten violently sick afterwards, but it was worth it to prove the guy wrong.

“Of course I’m up for that!” Stiles says confidently.

“I don’t want to push you,” Peter says, his voice laced with concern.

Stiles can’t help but think back to that night in the woods. He nearly hadn’t been able to do it. Looking back, he’s thankful that he did. He had an amazing night with Peter and their relationship, whatever that relationship might be, got infinitely better afterwards. Stiles would even go as far as to hope that maybe soon he’ll be able to put the label of ‘boyfriends’ on this relationship of theirs.

“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet,” Peter says, shaking Stiles away from his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just lost in thought for a moment,” Stiles answers quickly.

“You promise? I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Peter says.

“I swear on my Batman comics that I’m completely fine and looking forward to tomorrow,” Stiles says solemnly.

“Batman? Wow, this must be serious,” Peter teases.

“Hey! Do not judge my love for him. The man’s amazing!” Stiles says.

“No judgement here. Just the realization that I’m falling for a completely nerd.”

“Y-you… you’re falling for me?” Stiles asks, in shock.

“Yes,” Peter says.

“Really? Honestly?”

“Yes,” Peter repeats.

“Wow…” Stiles smiles and leans back in his chair. “Peter Hale’s falling for me…” He hears Peter laughing, but it doesn’t matter. “For once I’m falling in love with someone who’s also falling for me. This is amazing!”

“You’re cute, kitten,” Peter says softly. “Be ready at eight. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Getting Scott to cover for him is surprisingly easy. Stiles had expected to have to answer a million questions before Scott would pretend Stiles was staying at his place. Instead, the guy easily gives in and tells Stiles to have fun.

With his alibi settled, all that’s left to do is wait; something Stiles is particularly bad at. Out of pure misery, he continues cleaning his room. The following morning his cleaning streak continues down the hallway and to the living room. Stiles is sure the house has never been cleaner, something his father also notes. Thankfully his father doesn’t ask questions; he’s learned that more often than not he doesn’t like the answers anyway.

Stiles has trouble eating all day long. His body is stretched tight with tension. It’s torture to wait for evening to roll around.

He forces himself to stay busy, it’s the only way he’ll be able to make it through the day. The day seems to stretch on. It’s even worse when his dad leaves for work and he has no one to talk to while cleaning. The last hour seems to last at least a day and by the time Peter finally arrives, Stiles runs outside and towards the car.

“Someone’s an eager little kitten,” Peter teases him.

“Oh, please, I’ve been cleaning all day just to keep my hands busy.” Stiles quickly buckles his seatbelt and motions for Peter to start driving. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Peter laughs and follows Stiles’ request. “So, I’ve got a little test for you today,” Peter explains. “I know there’s a hunter in town, and I where he’s hanging out tonight. I’m going to see if you can find him.”

Stiles nods. “Will you tell me if I pick the wrong one?” he asks.

“I trust your instincts,” Peter says. “Don’t you?”

“I… I think I do, but…”

“There’s no need for buts. You know me, do you think I’d let you kill just anyone?” Peter asks. “You’re my kitten, Stiles. It’s my job to take care of you.”

Stiles jokingly makes a meowing sound. It’s no longer weird to hear Peter call him his kitten, in fact he’s beginning to really love it.

“I’ll get us close, and the rest is up to you,” Peter says. “I believe in you.”

Stiles nods. He’s a little nervous, but he’s mostly excited to prove himself worthy of Peter’s trust. He wants to find this hunter and take him out. For Peter.

Finally the car stops. When Stiles looks out of the window, he sees they’re in the parking lot of Jungle, the gay bar.

“Um… are we going in there?” Stiles asks.

Peter nods. “I know it’s not your first time here, so don’t act all coy. And don’t worry about getting in, I’ve got you covered.”

Apparently ‘got you covered’ for Peter means that he’s got a big wad of cash to pay off the bouncer and get them in without having to wait in line.

“How am I even supposed to get him out of here?” Stiles asks.

“You seduce him,” Peter says. “If that doesn’t work, I’ve brought backup.” He gets a small vial with a clear liquid out of his pocket to show Stiles.

Stiles nods. “Okay. Now I just have to find the hunter in this mass of people.”

“And you need to blend in,” Peter whispers in Stiles’ ear. “You wouldn’t want to alarm him by standing out. Think you can do that?”

Stiles doesn’t waste a moment and grabs Peter’s hand, dragging him onto the dancefloor. “Dance with me,” he says, already swaying his hips. He’s not a good dancer at all, but he’s going to try for Peter.

Peter doesn’t hesitate at all and grabs Stiles’ hips, pulling him close. Together they move to the music. Peter has to remind Stiles several times to keep an eye out for their target, but it’s difficult for Stiles. He’s got this sexy man pressed close to him, swiveling his hips against Stiles’. How is he supposed to concentrate on anything besides that?

“You know we have a purpose here, right? And I mean other than grinding up against me?” Peter teases him.

“I’m sorry, you’re just very distracting,” Stiles says. “You’re way too sexy.”

Peter laughs and turns Stiles around, pulling Stiles’ back flush against his front. “Come on, Kitten, you can do this. Focus. I believe in you.”

Stiles nods and takes a couple of deep breaths. He tries to ignore Peter’s roaming hands in favor of looking around the crowd. It’s proving to be very difficult since Peter has taken to running his hands over Stiles’ stomach.

“You’re evil,” Stiles hisses towards Peter. “Pure evil. How am I supposed to concentrate with you caressing me like this?”

Peter chuckles and whispers in his ear. “It’s part of the challenge, kitten.”

“I think it’s just you being an old perv who isn’t capable of keeping his hands to himself,” Stiles says.

“True, but I’m using that as an extra challenge for you,” Peter explains. “Now, focus.”

It isn’t easy, but after a while Stiles manages to ignore Peter and focus on the crowd around him. They’re in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by bodies moving to the beat. There’s people dancing, making out, and doing what can only be described as dry humping. Stiles has no idea how he’s supposed to find one hunter in this crowd. He grabs Peter’s hands and hold him close as they move through the crows. Stiles inspect everyone, but they all look like horndogs trying to get laid to him. That is until he spots one man to his left.

The guy is a little taller than him, and there’s something about him that gives Stiles the creeps. It’s a gut feeling that this guy is up to no good.

“Is it him?” he whispers to Peter, nodding in the guy’s direction.

“What do you think?” Peter asks.

Stiles groans, of course Peter won’t make this easy.

“I don’t like him,” Stiles says. “Something about him seems off.”

“I told you to trust your gut. Find out if you’re right, talk to him.” Peter takes the small vial out of his pocket and slips it into Stiles’.

Suddenly Peter’s hands are gone and when Stiles turns around, he can’t find a trace of the man anywhere. Someone’s tapping his shoulder and Stiles has a moment of relief before he realizes that it’s not Peter, but the potential hunter.

“I see your friend left you all alone,” the guys says.

Stiles nods. The wheels in his head are turning. He feels a need to run away from the guy, but he knows he has to stay. He can’t disappoint Peter which means he can’t leave without finding out if he’s right.

“I can keep you company in his absence, if you want.” The guy reaches out for Stiles’ hip. “Let’s dance, pretty boy.”

Stiles nods again and forces himself not to slap away the stranger’s hand.

“I’m Carl,” he introduces himself.

“St… Steve,” Stiles says, only remembering at the last moment to give him a false name.

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Carl says. “I’m glad that guy left. He doesn’t look right for you.”

“Why not?” Stiles asks.

“He just doesn’t. It’s a gut feeling, you wouldn’t understand.”

That’s suspicious to Stiles. Maybe the guy knows Peter’s a werewolf and that’s why he thinks Peter’s not right for him. That could be proof that the guy’s a hunter.

“Don’t look so down,” Carl says. “You’ve got me now, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Safe from him?” Stiles asks.

“Of course. It’s my job to protect cuties like you.” He pulls Stiles closer.

It’s all the proof he needs, this guy is the hunter. That’s probably why Peter left him alone to figure it out. If the guy had been innocent, Peter would have just told him.

“Can I get you a drink?” Stiles asks. “To repay you for protecting me from the big bad.”

“I’d love a drink. Whatever you’re having.”

Stiles smiles. “Be right back. Don’t move, I don’t want to lose my spot on the dancefloor.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Stiles quickly steps out of Carl’s grip and weaves his way through the dancing bodies, to the bar. It’s only when he reaches the bar that he realizes he’s too young to buy anything alcoholic, which he’s sure Carl is expecting. Luckily Peter’s waiting for him by the bar, two glasses with some clear liquid in hand.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Stiles asks, taking Peter’s smile as a good sign. He takes out the vial and pours it into one of the glasses.

“When he starts getting drowsy, lead him out of the club. I’ll help you once you get out there.” Peter says.

Stiles makes his way back to Carl, nerves racing through his body. He makes sure to remember which glass has the drugs in them and when he steps up to Carl, he sips from the other glass so Carl has no reason to grab the wrong glass from Stiles.

“You’ll have to let me buy you the next one,” Carl says.

“Only if you keep me interested for long enough,” Stiles flirts.

“I’ll just have to finish this one quickly,” Carl says.

“Not too quickly, I hope. I have no interest in men who finish fast.” Stiles always knew the evenings him and Scott spent making up terrible pick up lines would come in handy one day.

Carl laughs and uses his free hand to pull Stiles in again. “You’re funny,” he says softly. “I like funny guys.”

Stiles smiles and dances with Carl as he anxiously watches the man drink his drink. The drug works pretty quickly. After a couple of minutes Carl begins swaying more and he starts slurring his words.

“Oh, honey, did you have a few too many? Let’s get you outside,” Stiles says. “Come along.” He begins leading Carl off the dance floor. Thankfully the man doesn’t put up any protest. He gets Carl outside quickly, and it’s easy to lead him in the direction of Peter’s car. Carl goes along with it perfectly fine, until he sees Peter approaching him.

“What’s he doing here?!” he slurs, pointing towards Peter.

“He’s with me,” Stiles says. “And I won’t let you hurt him.”

Carl opens his mouth to protest, but he can’t form words. Some unintelligible sounds come out, before he collapses to the ground.

“Well done, kitten,” Peter says. “I’m proud of you.” He kisses Stiles softly. “Let’s get him in the trunk. We’re too out in the open here.”

Peter’s able to carry the man easily, so Stiles goes ahead to open the trunk. It’s exciting to do it like this, to transport the guy somewhere else before killing him.

“Where are we going?” Stiles asks when they’re in the car again.

“I know this house that has been empty for weeks. The family’s on holiday and won’t return until the next month,” Peter says. “We’ll take him there.”

Stiles nods and leans back in his chair. “How do you want me to do it?”

“However you want.”

Stiles takes a moment to consider his options. He could simply shoot the guy, but he’s not really in the mood for that. He wants Peter to touch him, clean him. He craves those gentle touches, especially after how they danced in the club. Stabbing the man would make him bloody. It would give Peter plenty of reasons to clean him.

“I want to use a knife,” Stiles admits. He sees Peter’s smile and he knows he made the right decision. It’s going to be a good night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long you guys, I kind of powered down during winter break and did absolutely no writing. Hopefully I can make up for the long wait with some murder.

Stiles’ skin is itching by the time they drive into the garage of the empty house. He can hardly wait to get started. Peter gets the guy out of the trunk and carries him into the kitchen. Stiles follows him eagerly after getting the set of knives out of the trunk; he’s already going over how he’s going to kill the guy in his mind. He had it out for Peter, so the guy deserves to suffer a little.

“Do you want to wait until he’s sobered up?” Peter asks as he sets the guy down on a chair.

“Do you think I have the patience for that?” Stiles asks. “Peter, don’t you know me at all?”

Peter chuckles and pats Stiles’ cheek. “You cute little kitten. I won’t make you wait.”

Stiles sets the knives down on the table and walks around the chair, choosing where he’s going to start. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Peter sitting on the counter, no doubt watching his every move. So far the kills he’s made have been fast, over before he was really aware of it. Now he can take his time, Stiles isn’t sure how to handle that. It’d be easy to just slit the guy’s throat, but that feels like a waste of everything they’ve done to get him here. He could stab him several times, but Stiles doesn’t think he has the rage for that. Sure, he’s angry that the guy wanted to hurt Peter, but the thought that Carl will never get to do that is enough to calm him.

He picks a long, thin knife from the set and runs his finger along the edge. He glances over at Peter nervously.

“Take your time,” Peter says. “It’s okay, kitten, we’re in no hurry.”

Stiles nods and circles the man again, still unsure of where to start. After a minute he’s tired of contemplating his actions, so he forces himself to make a decision. He stops in front of Carl and before he can talk himself out of it, slowly pushes the knife into Carl’s stomach.

When the knife’s buried to the hilt inside Carl, Stiles watches with fascination as the blood begins to stain Carl’s shirt. He pulls out the knife and presses his hand against the wound, the warm blood staining his hands.

A moan leaves Carl’s lips, and Stiles startles, taking a few steps back.

“It’s okay, kitten, he can’t hurt you,” Peter says soothingly. “Even if he wakes up entirely, I’ll protect you.”

Stiles nods and steps forward again. “He was going to hurt you,” he tells Peter softly. “Said you were no good for me.” That awakens the anger in him again and he stabs Carl again, and again, and again. He hits an artery and blood sprays out at him, he still doesn’t stop. All he can think about is protecting Peter. He can’t let Peter get hurt. He’s nothing without Peter, just a broken boy who can’t cope with the world.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels Peter’s arms around him, pulling him away from Carl. Or what once was Carl. When Stiles looks up he sees the carnage he created, the figure before him is hardly recognizable as the man he flirted with at the club.

“It’s okay,” Peter whispers in his ears. “It’s okay, kitten. I’m right here, it’s okay.”

Stiles sags against Peter, the knife falling from his hand.

“It’s okay,” Peter repeats. “I’ve got you. You did so well.” He guides Stiles over to an empty chair and helps him sit down. “Why are you crying, kitten? You did so well tonight. I’m so proud of you.” Peter wipes a thumb over Stiles’ cheek, attempting to wipe away the tears and blood.

“He was going to hurt you,” Stiles says. “I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“And you stopped him,” Peter says. “You did that, Stiles. You  stopped him and I’m safe.”

Stiles nods slowly, letting Peter’s words sink in. Peter’s safe because of him. He looks over at the body again and he can’t help but feel a sense of pride. He made a man into that with his own hands.

“You’re smiling,” Peter notes. “I knew you’d realize how good you are, how proud you make me.”

“Will you clean me now?” Stiles asks.

“Of course, kitten. Follow me upstairs.” Peter grabs Stiles’ hand and gently pulls him along up the stairs and through the first door on the left.

The bathroom is without a doubt the ugliest bathroom Stiles has ever seen. Both the tiles and the bathtub are pink, and there’s a frilly pink shower curtain. “Oh my god, what kind of people live here? This is horrible!” he shouts.

Peter chuckles. “That’s a lot, coming from the guy who has Batman underwear.”

“Hey! Batman is awesome!” Stiles says, puffing his chest up to intimidate Peter. It has the exact opposite effect, because all Peter does is laugh and pet his cheek.

“You’re adorable,” he says.

Stiles pouts. “And you’re mean. Aren’t you supposed to support your boyfriend’s passions?”

“Fine,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. “Your underwear is awesome.”

“Thanks. That’s all I wanted to hear.” Stiles lets Peter push him down to sit on the edge of the bath.

“Now sit down, be quiet and let me clean up the mess you made,” Peter says sternly.

Stiles immediately falls silent and lets Peter do his job. Peter wets a washcloth and begins with Stiles’ fingers. He carefully cleans every finger, before moving on to the rest of his hands.

“You’ve got beautiful fingers,” Peter muses. “And the things you can do with them… Just look at that body downstairs. You did that, with these.” Peter lifts up Stiles’ hand and kisses each finger. “So beautiful and all mine.”

“All yours,” Stiles confirms.

Peter lets go of Stiles’ hand and takes off his shirt. He lets the blood soaked shirt fall into the bathtub behind Stiles and starts cleaning his arms.

It’s fascinating to watch Peter work. He’s so focused on getting every inch of Stiles’ skin clean, he hardly pays attention to anything else. Every once in a while he presses a soft kiss to Stiles’ skin. It’s incredibly soothing to be pampered like this. It’s not even a little difficult to sit still with Peter touching him like this. He doesn’t feel like there’s a ball of energy inside him, waiting to burst out. He feels calm and peaceful. There’s a silence in his head that he can’t get enough of.

Peter moves on from his arms to his chest, still as focused as he was before. Stiles would get self conscious, if Peter didn’t look at him with nothing but admiration. It’s nice to not feel like the scrawny human for once. Most of his friends are werewolves, and there’s no way he can measure up, but that’s not how Peter makes him feel. He feels just as strong and beautiful as Scott or Derek.

Stiles can’t do much more than look in awe at Peter’s hands. Every once in a while Peter has to move away to clean the washcloth; Stiles can barely stop himself from whining whenever that happens.

“You really got yourself dirty this time,” Peter says. “Such a naughty boy. You’re lucky you have me to clean you, aren’t you?”

Stiles nods in answer. He’s really lucky, he knows that. Without Peter he’d be nothing. He probably would have been caught after killing Haythorn, which he doesn’t even want to think about. His father would have been so ashamed.

He knows that won’t happen with Peter, though. Peter’ll keep him safe and his father will never have to know how Stiles brings more peace to Beacon Hills.

When Peter reaches his stomach, Stiles can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement. He hopes Peter won’t notice it, that’d be embarrassing. He curses his teenage hormones. They should really stop bothering him during these times.

Of course Peter does notice, that’s just his luck. The man gives him a sly smirk and presses kisses to Stiles’ belly, just below his belly button. “Is my little kitten enjoying this?”

“You know I am,” Stiles says softly. “Which is totally unfair, you’re cheating with your wolfy senses.”

Peter chuckles. “I’m just using all of my abilities.”

“Cheating,” Stiles says again. “So cheating. You’re a big cheater.”

“I could just stop,” Peter says, sitting up straight again.

“No!” Stiles says immediately. “Don’t stop!”

“Nah, I’m not feeling it any more.” Peter cleans the washcloth quickly and begins cleaning Stiles’ face.

“Peter…” Stiles protests.

“No, you called me a cheater, so I’m not in the mood any more,” Peter answers. “Now keep your mouth closed, I’m trying to clean you.”

Stiles obeys immediately. Somehow he doesn’t even get the urge to disobey when Peter tells him to do something. It’s strange, usually he’s much more rebellious.

“Good boy,” Peter says. The words make something inside Stiles flip. He wants to hear that more often.

“You know, I kind of miss seeing the blood on you. It looked so good,” Peter says when he’s finished cleaning Stiles’ face.

“You’ll have to wait til next time, but it’ll only happen if you’re lucky. I might not be in the mood,” Stiles says, pouting.

“Aw, is my cute kitten upset that I stopped caressing him?” Peter asks. “You poor thing.”

“Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me?” Stiles asked.

“Because I am,” Peter answered. “And it’s so easy.”

Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and looks away from Peter. “You’re mean and I’m never going to get my face bloody for you again,” he huffs.

Peter laughs and kisses Stiles’ cheek. “Stiles, I know you. You won’t last long without this. And you know it too, it’s a completely empty threat.”

Of course Stiles knows that it’s an empty threat, but he’s not about to admit that. He wants to make Peter pay for being so mean.

“Come on, kitten, quit pouting and help me get you out of these dirty pants,” Peter says.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but gives in. He kicks off his shoes, which are also pretty bloody. He’ll need to get new ones, or ask Peter for new ones. He stands up and before he can reach down Peter already has Stiles’ pants and boxers around his ankles.

“Step out of them,” Peter says.

Again, a part of Stiles wants to rebel against the order, but it comes a lot more naturally to just listen to Peter.

“Good boy,” Peter compliments him, causing Stiles’ stomach to flip.

At Peter’s gesture Stiles sits down again. Now that he’s completely naked in front of Peter, his teenage hormones are really coursing through his body. And of course Peter touches him everywhere except where he really wants it.

He starts with Stiles’ feet, slowly working his way upwards. It’s like torture to Stiles. Gentle fingers trace over his skin, making him more and more excited, more hopeful for how this will end. Peter grins up at him every once in a while. It’s all working together to wind Stiles up. By the time Peter reaches his thighs, he’s hard as a rock. He’s scared that even the smallest touch will set him off, and he desperately doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of Peter. Stiles tries to think of anything other than Peter between his legs, caressing him all over. He closes his eyes for a second, trying to imagine the time he and Scott tripped in the woods and got covered in mud. When he opens his eyes again, Peter is pulling back and standing up.

“Hey!” he says. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to clean the mess you made in the kitchen,” he says.

“But.. what about… you know.” Stiles gestures towards his cock.

“I’m sure you don’t need me for that,” Peter mocks him. “You teenagers are known for dealing with that yourself.”

“But… are you really not going to…”

Peter leans in again and presses a kiss to Stiles’ nose. “I have clean clothes for you in the backseat. Go get dressed and pick a bedroom to sleep in. I’ll join you when I’m done.”

Stiles’ shoulders slump and he obediently leaves the bathroom to go to the garage. It feels a little weird to walk through someone else’s house completely naked, but there’s also a thrill to it. Peter has some comfortable sweats for him in the car, and Stiles gets dressed quickly. He’s tempted to watch Peter clean up, but he has orders and he can’t disobey. So, he finds the master bedroom and makes himself comfortable. He’s determined to stay up and wait for Peter to join him, hopeful that they’ll continue where they left up. However, as soon as his head hits the pillow fatigue overtakes him and he’s asleep within minutes.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's the last chapter! I'll add an epilogue after this soon (hopefully) and that'll be the end. I hope you guys like it!

Stiles is woken up by the sun shining brightly on his face. The first thing he notices is how empty the bed is. He can still feel the lingering warmth behind him, so he knows Peter hasn’t been gone for that long.

He can’t help but be disappointed, he’d been looking forward to waking up in Peter’s arms. He’d planned on making stay Peter in bed with him as long as possible. Normally he’d stay in on Sunday, but today Stiles can’t even imagine staying in bed. Not without Peter anyway.

He’s more than a little grumpy as he rolls out of bed, in search of Peter. He stumbles around the unfamiliar house sleepily. He finds Peter in the kitchen.

Stiles pouts, hoping it’ll get him some pity from Peter. “You weren’t in bed.”

“I had to make sure I cleaned everything, Kitten,” Peter explains. “And I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

“I wanted to wake up with you,” Stiles confesses, sounding a little more pathetic than he’d meant to sound.

“Oh, I’m sorry, kitten.” Peter gets up from his crouched position and walks over to Stiles. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.” He reaches out to stroke Stiles’ cheek. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to make sure you got enough sleep. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Oh…” That makes Stiles feel a little bad about being upset. Of course Peter was only looking out for him.

“I’m almost done here, kitten. Then I’ll go make sure the bedroom’s clean and we can go to my place. We’ll spend the rest of the day together. Okay?” Peter asks.

Stiles nods, he likes the idea of that. “That sounds nice.”

“I just bought a PS4 and some games for you,” Peter says.

Stiles’ eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “No way! Peter!!!” He jumps forward and hugs Peter tightly. “You’re the best boyfriend ever!”

Peter laughs and wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. “I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all I want in life.”

Stiles blushes and hugs Peter a little tighter. “Definitely best boyfriend,” he whispers.

Peter kisses the top of Stiles’ head before letting go of him. “I really need to check upstairs, kitten. I’ll be back soon.”

Stiles reluctantly steps back. “Soon, okay? Because I’m not patient at all.”

Peter chuckles. “We’ll work on that.”

Stiles looks disgusted, he doesn’t think he can ever learn to be patient, not even if Peter tries to teach him. It all sounds horribly boring anyway.

“Adorable,” Peter mutters as he makes his way upstairs.

Waiting for Peter is as boring as Stiles thought it would be. Several times he considers going upstairs, but he knows he’ll only be in the way. He doesn’t want to touch anything, not when Peter spent God knows how long cleaning the kitchen.

It takes Peter over half an hour to clean the bedroom and Stiles doesn’t think he’s exaggerating at all when it feels like the longest 30 minutes of his life. Of course he doesn’t voice this, because he knows Peter will just mock him for it.

“What games did you get?” Stiles asks him instead.

“Um… some assassin game,” Peter answers. “I think there’s also some war game, Call of something… I just asked the guy in the store to pick a few good titles since I know nothing about any of this.”

“That won’t do, you have to know more about games. I’ll simply have to teach you. And we can co-op, or play against each other. We should do the second because if you suck, I’m not letting you drag me down,” Stiles rambles, following Peter to his car.

Peter opens the passenger door for Stiles and simply smiles at him.

“I’ll make sure you improve, though,” Stiles tells him. “So one day we can conquer every game together. It’ll be amazing.”

“Sure, Stiles,” Peter agrees

Stiles smiles happily. He’s so grateful that Peter’s willing to learn something new for Stiles. No matter how often Peter tells him that he wants to make Stiles happy, it’s always a surprise when he actually acts on those words. And even though Peter turns out to be incredibly horrible at gaming, Stiles has the best time trying to teach him.

On Wednesday everything changes. Scott takes him aside at the end of the day, his face serious.

“Dude, there’s something going on in town,” he whispers. “Several people have disappeared. Deaton just called me. Just last weekend this guy Carl went missing. Deaton knows his girlfriend, she’s beside herself. He suspects a supernatural cause.”

Stiles pales, the guy he killed was called Carl as well… But Peter said the guy was a hunter. It can’t possibly be the same guy. “Should she just call the police?” Stiles offers.

“You know as well as I do that if this is supernatural, the police can’t do anything. I’ve already got Derek researching what could be causing this,” Scott says.

“You said there were others…”

“Yeah, these two guys went camping and never came back. They’re doctors at mom’s hospital,” Scott says.

Stiles is pretty sure his heart stops beating. He’s sure those are the two guys he killed, but he can’t imagine doctors also being criminals. Doctors swear to protect people, not beat them up.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good,” Scott asks, sounding worried.

“Ate something wrong at lunch,” Stiles lies.

“Yeah, sure.” Scott rolls his eyes. “You know I can hear your lies, Stiles.”

“I just don’t feel good, okay?” he says. It’s not a lie, he really doesn’t feel good. Scott doesn’t have to know why he doesn’t feel good, though.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asks.

Stiles shakes his head. He needs Peter, not Scott. Peter will make it better, he’s sure. “I’ll be fine. You go help Derek.”

“Call if you need me,” Scott says sternly. “And I mean it. No suffering in silence.”

Stiles nods. “Yes, Scott.”

“Okay… be safe and… are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Yes, mom,” Stiles says, sighing.

“I’m just looking out for my pack,” Scott defends himself. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and walks away. “Go be an alpha to Derek. He appreciates it more than I do!” he calls out. Stiles manages to keep his composure all the way to Peter’s home.

Peter must have heard his car, because the front door is open before Stiles can knock.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” Peter says, smiling softly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“They were innocent, weren’t they?” Stiles hisses. “Scott told me the two guys in the woods were doctors and Deaton knew Carl’s girlfriend.”

“If Carl had a girlfriend, he was going to cheat on her with you. I wouldn’t call that innocent,” Peter replies.

Stiles groans and pushes past Peter, he’s not going to have this conversation outside. “Cheating doesn’t deserve the death penalty!” he yells. “You had me kill an innocent man!”

“Stiles…” Peter begins.

“No! You said he was a hunter,” Stiles says.

“Actually, I never said he was. I just implied it,” Peter argues.

“How could you do this to me? I thought you were taking care of me, Peter!”

“I was taking care of you. You needed to feel wanted, to feel like you’re making a difference. I made that happen, didn’t I? I made you feel loved and happy. I helped you be calm,” Peter says.

“But…”

“No, there’s no need for buts. You needed this, and I provided it. Sure, I lied a little, but that’s only because hunters aren’t all that common. I wanted to give you only hunters to kill, but I couldn’t find any. You were desperate for it, remember? I did the best I could.”

Thinking back to when this started, Stiles remembers how desperate he felt. He doesn’t want to admit that. Peter’s the one that made a mistake, not him. Peter’s responsible for the deaths of those people. Even as he thinks that, Stiles isn’t sure he believes it.

“Kitten,” Peter says, reaching out to stroke Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles wants so desperately to give into the touch. Everything’s easier with Peter. He doesn’t want to feel guilty over what happened. But it’s wrong, he knows that. What Peter made him do was wrong. It takes all he has to pull away.

“I’m not your kitten,” Stiles says. It breaks his heart, but he knows it must be done. He steps back. “This ends now and we never speak of it again.”

Before he can change his mind, Stiles leaves the house and drives away, pushing away all feelings of guilt and heartbreak.

He breaks down completely that night. He feels terrible and he has no idea how to make it better. Usually he’d talk to Peter, but that’s not an option any more. He can’t talk to Scott or his dad either, they’d hate him if they knew what he’d done.

It’s a lonely night for Stiles. He curls up under the blankets, feeling pitiful. Just a few days ago he’d been so happy to spend time with Peter, and now all he can do is to hide what they did together in shame.

He dreams of them that night, the people he murdered, and he dreams of Peter. He remembers Peter’s praises and his affection. More than the guilt he feels, he feels the loss of Peter. He wakes up with a feeling of emptiness, the likes of which he hasn’t felt since he lost his mother. It’s terrible and Stiles can barely drag himself out of bed in the morning to go to school.

He must look as bad as he feels, because Scott plasters himself to Stiles’ side to make sure he’s not getting any worse. Several times throughout the day, Scott tries to convince him to just go home and sleep it off, but Stiles needs the distraction school provides him with.

Stiles has enough trouble focusing on most days, but today it’s absolutely impossible for him. The ache of missing Peter is too strong, it keeps creeping into his every thoughts. He can feel the ghost of Peter’s fingers on his cheek if he concentrates on it. The only way he can describe it, is hell.

He soldiers through, though, and he counts himself lucky that Scott considers him too sick to help them track down the big bad.

“You focus on getting better. If we need your help, we’ll tell you,” Scott tells him sternly at the end of the day. “If you need anything, just call. I’ll happily heat up some soup for you or something.”

“Thanks, Scotty. You’re a true friend, but I’m just going to relax or something. And I have some homework to finish…” he said. He doubted he’d be able to get any homework done, but he was at least going to try.

Life wasn’t fair, Stiles decides after thirty minutes of doing his homework. And life has a particular dislike for him. It is absolutely impossible for him to live a life without Peter. Now even his books have turned against him. The picture that accompanies the text pictures a man that looks so much like Peter that it makes his heart ache.

It’s another lonely night, which is again filled with the same dreams. When he wakes up, it’s like he can still feel Peter’s touches.

The next night is even worse. He dreams of killing and Peter plastered against his back as he whispers praises into his ears. He wakes up, expecting to still see the blood on his fingers.

Every night he kills in his sleep, every night Peter praises him for it, and every morning he wakes up feeling worse than the morning before. It’s beginning to show on his face. Scott looks at him like he might break at every touch. His father asks him how he’s doing at least three times a day. A week later even Lydia’s bothering him about it.

The dreams get more and more vivid. It’s not just his old victims he sees, but new ones as well.  Classmates, random people he saw on the street, officers his dad works with, no one seems to be safe outside of the pack. He can see the light leave their eyes as he kills them. He can almost feel the warm blood coat  his hands.

Even more vivid than the killing, is Peter’s voice. Peter’s always behind him, praising him. He gets told he’s a good boy and that Peter’s so proud of him. Peter touches him sometimes.

In his dreams, Peter never cleans him, only spreads the blood even further. Peter traces bloody fingers over his face, telling him he’s beautiful like that. Peter’s hands reach beneath his shirt, caressing his stomach. One night Peter’s hands reach even lower, dipping into his jeans.

It never goes any further than that, he wakes up before anything can happen.

It’s been two weeks and Stiles is beginning to live for his dreams. He barely pays attention to anything else. He’s tense whenever someone brings up his mental state.

It’s a Thursday afternoon when Stiles explodes. He’s skipping Lacrosse practice, like he has been for a week. He knows he’ll be kicked out soon if he keeps this up, but that doesn’t matter to him. Apparently it matters a great deal to Eric, a guy in his year who’s very eager for Stiles to get kicked off the team so he can take his place.

“Hey, Stilinski, have you finally figured out that you can’t live up to McCall’s fame on the team?” he shouts after Stiles.

Stiles tries to ignore him and continues walking towards his car. He parked his car as far away from the school as he could, all the way in the back in a dark corner. In the morning it seemed like a good idea, but now he wishes he’d parked it closer.

“I don’t understand why coach even put you on the team. Did you give him a little locker room action? Open up that pretty mouth for him and…”

Stiles snaps. He turns around and punches Eric in the face. He can feel the guy’s nose breaking. The sound of snapping bones sends a thrill through him and he wants more of it.

Eric’s doubled over, clutching his nose. Blood drips through his fingers and stains the ground. Stiles doesn’t even have to think about it, doesn’t have time to think about it. He kicks him.

“What the fuck dude?!” Eric spits out.

Stiles doesn’t answer, only kicks him again. And again. And again.

Eric’s lying on the ground, gasping for air while Stiles keeps kicking him. There’s more blood now, and somewhere in the back of his mind he can hear Peter praising him. It’s the first time in weeks that he’s felt right. Like the world is turning the right side again. This is what he’s good at.

He keeps kicking Eric; in the stomach, in the chest. He even kicks his head a couple of times. There’s blood coming out of Eric’s mouth now, and it’s so satisfying to see. He knows it won’t be much longer now. Soon the world will be free of this asshole.

With one hard kick to Eric’s head, he’s gone. There’s no more sound of ragged breathing, no twitching of his fingers, no more grunts when Stiles kicks him one last time.

There’s a few moments of bliss and then it hits him. He killed someone again and this time he doesn’t have anyone to clean up his mess. He can feel the panic rising in his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. His heartbeat is speeding up and his mind is clouded again. He can’t think straight and for several minutes he stands there, frozen.

He’s slowly beginning to realize there’s only one thing he can do; he has to get Peter. He tries texting the man, but his hands are shaking so badly that not even he can make sense of what he just typed. It takes him a while, but he manages to call Peter. The phone is picked up after the first ring, but Peter doesn’t speak.

“Peter,” Stiles says. “I did it again… I… he was saying these things and I snapped…”

“Where are you?” Peter asks.

“The school parking lot.” Stiles has barely finished speaking when the call is disconnected.

Stiles can only hope that this means that Peter’s coming. He has no idea what to do and leans against his car. He keeps looking at the body before he turns to look out over the parking lot. He knows that any moment someone can come out and see them.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, too scared to look at his phone, but then Peter’s car pulls up. He spots Stiles immediately and parks his car between the school and the body, effectively hiding it from view. Peter gets out and without so much as looking at Stiles, begins wrapping the body in garbage bags.

“Peter…” Stiles says softly.

Peter wordlessly continues working.

“Please look at me,” Stiles begs. He must sound as pitiful as he feels, because Peter finally looks up. He’s still silent, though.

“I need you.”

Those words finally get Peter to smile softly and answer Stiles. “I missed you too, kitten.”

The nickname immediately makes Stiles feel right again and he can feel himself relax. “I don’t know why I did this, Peter. I didn’t mean to, but I had to stop him. He was saying all these things about me and…”

Peter shushes him. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I understand. Sometimes we do things that we don’t understand. I know that better than anyone.” Peter abandons Eric’s body and stands up to hug Stiles. “It’s going to be okay, kitten. I’m here now.”

Stiles can’t help but hug him back. It’s hard to belief now that he denied himself this for so long. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. We can’t change the past, we can only move on and learn from it. Now we both know that this is something you need, right?” Peter asks.

Stiles nods. He doesn’t feel ashamed any more. This is who he is, and he has his boyfriend to support him. No one else has to know about it.

“There’s my good boy, you make me so proud.” Peter presses a soft kiss to Stiles’ lips before he continues wrapping up the body.

“We should get some water to wash away the blood,” Stiles notes.

“Could you get some? I have buckets in the trunk. You’d really help me out,” Peter says.

Stiles can’t say no to that, it’s just like it used to be. “Of course.” He hurries to get the buckets.

“I should have some extra shoes in there as well. You’d better put those on, or you’ll be tracking blood everywhere.”

Stiles hadn’t even considered that. It’s a good thing he has Peter. He always acts without thinking it through first and without Peter to cover for him it would be disastrous.

He changes shoes and gets the water for Peter as quickly as he can. When he comes back from his second water run, Peter’s got Eric’s body in the trunk. It doesn’t take much cleaning for the blood to no longer be visible.

“I’ll dispose of the body, you should go home and get some rest. We’ll talk again soon.” Peter gently strokes his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, kitten.”

“Thank you.” Now that the rush of adrenaline is fading, Stiles is beginning to feel tired. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to Peter, but he knows he should. He needs his rest and Peter needs to get rid of the body. He watches Peter drive away and doesn’t get in his car until he can no longer see the car.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares, in the morning he actually feels rested. His good mood must show on his face, because he no longer gets worried looks from his friends.

“You’re feeling better?” Scott asks.

“Yep. I’m all good again. Back to the old Stiles,” Stiles answers, bumping his shoulder against Scott. “There was no need to worry, mom.”

Scott rolls his eyes. “I’m your alpha, Stiles. It’s natural for me to worry.”

“Sure, _mom_ ,” he teases.

“You’re grounded,” Scott replies.

Stiles laughs, he missed this. It’s thanks to Peter that he has it back. “Okay, mom. Such a shame I can’t invite my best friend over to play video games…”

“Oh, you’re playing dirty,” Scott says, showing Stiles. “You are double grounded now. Triple grounded even. And I’ll play with Liam this afternoon.”

Stiles shrugs. He’d like to hang out with Scott, but he has someone else as well now. Before this he’d be alone if Scott canceled on him, now he has Peter. Maybe this afternoon he’ll finally convince Peter to take the next step. He’s ready for a nice afternoon of making out with his boyfriend and celebrate their reunion properly.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. I finished a multi-chapter fic! I'm so proud of myself for this. I went through several versions of the epilogue, and finally settled for this. Thank you all for your nice comments and kudos. There's no way I would have finished this without you guys. <3

Stiles feels nothing but shame. His hands are cuffed to the table, as if he’s some kind of animal. He supposes he is in the eyes of the officer in front of him.

“Let’s try this again. You and Mr Hale are suspects in at least a dozen accounts of murder. Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?” the officer asks.

Stiles knows the man pretty well, one of his father’s most trusted officers, Marcus. He knows Marcus is married with three children, a fourth one on the way.

“How’s the wife, Marcus?” Stiles asks, instead of answering the question. He doesn’t show his shame. He’ll act innocent and trust that Peter will rescue him.

Marcus sighs. They’ve been doing this for hours and so far Stiles has refused to say anything even remotely related to the case. Before Marcus, other officers tried, but none of them succeeded.

“Where’s Peter?” Marcus asks again.

“She’s due soon, isn’t she?” Stiles asks. “Must be exciting. Though, you’ve done this so often, so you might be used to it. Maybe you even find it all boring now.”

“You can help yourself out here, Stiles. Tell us where Peter is and we can help you,” Marcus says, close to begging. No one wants to be the guy who accuses the sheriff’s kid of murder.

“I saw your eldest the other day. She came into the library to pick out a book. Smart one, isn’t she?” Stiles muses.

“We know Peter’s behind all this, Stiles,” Marcus says. “You don’t have to protect him any more. He can’t hurt you, we’ll protect you.”

Stiles stiffens, that hits something in him. Peter would never hurt him, he knows that. Peter’s the innocent one here. Stiles kills, Peter only helps him clean up. There’s no way Peter will hurt him.

“Stiles, you’re safe here,” Marcus says. He must have noticed Stiles’ reaction, because he suddenly looks more hopeful. “We know you’d never do this. We all know you here and we know you’re a good guy.”

Stiles looks away, no longer in the mood to say anything. He’s not their good guy, he’s Peter’s. Peter’s kitten, Peter’s good boy.

Marcus tries a few more times to get Stiles to talk before leaving the room. It takes a while before someone enters the room again. This time it’s Ashleigh.

Ashleigh is pretty new to the force, so Stiles doesn’t know much about her yet. He smiles politely at her and waits for her to begin asking the same questions as the others.

“Your dad’s behind there,” she says, pointing towards the mirror to their left. “But you probably figured that out already, didn’t you? You’re smart and you know this place.”

Stiles’ eyes flash over to the mirror. He’d assumed his father was watching, but none of the others confirmed it.

“None of us want it to be you. You probably noticed that as well. We all love your dad and we don’t want to hurt him,” she says. She sounds friendly, just like the few times that Stiles brought her donuts. “I guess that’s why we’re all ignoring the possibility that it was you, and not Peter. I think you killed people, maybe not all of them, but at least one.”

Stiles is impressed. No one else dared accuse him of the actual murders. They all treated him as an accomplice or innocent bystander.

“Will you tell me about Peter?” she asks. “Not about where he is, or what he did. Tell me about him. What’s he like? Do you love him? Does he love you?”

“Yes,” Stiles answers. “I love him and he loves me.” It’s the first time that he’s spoken about Peter, and it surprises him. He firmly shuts his lips, determined not to say anything else.

“Ah, it’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it? Love…” Ashleigh says. She leans back in her chair, Stiles can almost convince himself they’re friends. “I told you about my girlfriend, didn’t ?” She holds up her hand, showing off an engagement ring Stiles hasn’t seen before. “Happened last night, I had no idea. She’d been planning it for weeks. Some cop am I, right? Didn’t even notice my girlfriend sneaking around to plan a proposal.” She laughs, and Stiles joins her.

“Peter asked me a couple months ago,” he admits. “It’s going to happen this summer, and we’ll go to Paris afterwards.”

“Paris? Wow, I wish we had the money for something like that. I’ll bet it’s going to be great. It’s such a romantic city.”

Stiles nods. He has no doubt that it’ll happen. He’s not going to be in here long and then they can move on from these accusations.

“How long have you two been together?” she asks.

“Three years,” Stiles answers. “Best years of my life.”

“Wow, that’s a long time. Most couples don’t last that long. What’s your secret?”

Stiles shrugs. “I’m his, he loves me, keeps me safe. I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“He keeps you safe?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “He’s not here now, though. You’re a suspect for murder and he’s not here to help you out.”

“He’ll come,” Stiles says, his mood darkening again. “He’s going to come, just you wait and see.”

“It’s been two days. He sure is taking his time,” Ashleigh says.

“He’ll come,” Stiles says again. “He always comes for me.”

Ashleigh shrugs. “We’ll see.”

There’s a knock on the mirror, both Stiles and Ashleigh turn in the direction of the sound.

“Excuse me,” Ashleigh says and leaves the room.

Stiles slumps in his chair, silently fuming over Ashleigh’s disbelief. Of course Peter will come to help him. Peter will find a way to prove his innocence.

He’s alone for a long time. The longer he’s made to wait, the more nervous he is. What if something went wrong? What if they captured Peter?

Half an hour later the door to the interrogation room is opened again. It’s not Ashleigh who enters, or Marcus, or any of the other officers. It’s his own father. The man smiles and shows off the keys to Stiles’ handcuffs. “You’re free to go, kid. We caught the real killer red handed. Quite literally. He was covered in blood.”

Stiles relaxes. Peter came through for him, just like Stiles knew he would.

“I knew you would.” He flexes his wrists as soon as he’s free. “You’re too good a cop to catch the wrong guy.”

The sheriff hugs Stiles. “He framed you and I fell for it. I’m so sorry, kid.”

“It’s okay, dad.”

On his way out of the building he gets apologies from several of the officers.

“I was just doing my job,” Ashleigh says. “Sorry.”

Stiles shrugs it off, even though a part of him wants to punch her in the face for questioning Peter’s love for him.

“I’m going to be here for a while, but you can take my car home,” the sheriff tells him. “I’ll get a ride from someone else. I’m sure you want to get home as soon as possible.”

“Yes. Thanks, dad.” He hugs his father once more before getting his keys.

Stiles doesn’t even reach his home before Peter finds him. He’d recognize Peter’s car anywhere, and he pulls over as soon as he sees it.

“You didn’t doubt me, did you?” Peter asks, opening the passenger side door for Stiles.

Stiles shakes his head. “No. They wanted me to tell you where you were, but I didn’t. I knew you’d save me.”

Peter pulls him in for a kiss. “It’s getting a little hot under our feet. Are you ready to leave this place behind?”

“Yes.” Stiles knows he’ll miss his dad and Scott, but he also knows he can’t stay. He’ll have Peter, and Peter is all he needs.

“Good boy.” Peter strokes his cheek. “Let’s go.”

Stiles straps himself in. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, kitten. You’ll see when we get there.”

Stiles smiles softly and makes himself comfortable in his seat. He’s ready to face whatever Peter has planned for them. He trusts Peter to do what’s best for him. Everything will be fine, as long as he has Peter by his side.


End file.
